Red Doggy
by claraowl
Summary: While helping Neville with a spell, Hermione gets hit when his wand goes haywire. Upon seeing that Hermione is slightly insane, Neville hurries to get Ron. How will he get her out of the place in her head?


Disclaimer: I own these characters and settings no more than I own the Tower of London. However, given the chice between the two... isn't the choice obvious?

Red Doggy

A R/Hr fanfic

"Ron, Ron hurry!" Neville burst into the boys' dormitory, panting. "You've got to come quickly! Hermione was helping me with a spell and I-I did it wrong and it hit her and she's- she's in a bad way-" "WHAT?" Ron, who'd been about to get ready for bed, immediately sprung to his feet, "What- what's wrong with her?" Neville paled at the slightly maddened look in Ron's eyes as they rushed back down the stairs. "I don't know what exactly I did- but she's not- not herself… She's scared and doesn't seem to know what anything is or who anyone is. She- she keeps saying your name. So I thought that if I got you down there, you'd know what to do." Then they reached the common room and Ron was met with the terrifying sight of Hermione having lost her marbles completely.

She was sitting up against the opposite wall, looking around at everything in a wide-eyed, slightly scared sort of way, her fingers busily tying knots in midair. When Crookshanks came up to her, nuzzling her for a pat, she shrieked, and curled up into a ball, sobbing. Crookshanks fled quickly. As soon as her usually beloved pet was out of sight, she resumed the staring and knotting. It was then that her eyes found Ron. They widened slightly, to the point of being wider than Luna's. She fixed her gaze on him with intensity, roving over him as if memorizing every inch. A light of recognition lit up her eyes. "Ron…" Her voice, barely above a whisper, was easily heard in the deserted common room. Her hands stopped knotting the air and fell to her sides as she rose to her feet.

Ron walked over to her, Neville trailing slightly behind him. The moment Ron was close enough to her to get a good look at her; he realized that something was horribly wrong, worse than he'd thought. Her eyes had a thin layer of mist over them, making them look deadened. "Hermione," he said softly, "are you alright?" Her mouth parted slightly as a smile graced her lips. Then she began to speak:

"_A sparrow, called Ethan,_

_Lived in my hometown._

_He tried to kiss me _

_After he spun me around, _

_But I was so dizzy I threw up _

_On the ground._"

Ron shared a bewildered look with Neville. Was Hermione spouting nonsense as a side effect of whatever happened with the haywire spell, or was the spell causing her to make rhymes about her past? She continued,

"_A butterfly, called Evie,_

_His sister, _

_A small thing,_

_When I met her _

_I took her_

_Under my wing._"

Ron was getting frightened now, as she spoke with fever, her eyes fixed hungrily upon his face. What was wrong with her? Who were these people she was talking about? What had Neville done to her? Hermione lilted on,

_A toad, called Neville,_

_On a scarlet snake_

_Searched for his Trevor _

_Lest there be a mistake._

_He asked me to help_

_Search for his missing thing._

_I agreed, not knowing_

_What fate would bring._

Ron's eyes widened. Hermione had definitely just mentioned Neville, Trevor, and the Hogwarts Express. So she was speaking a truth of who she knew. But why did she not recognize Neville, though she just mentioned him? She continued in the same vein:

"_I then met two creatures _

_Quite different from me_

_A young stag _

_And a red doggy. _

_I asked them if they'd_

_Seen the toad's _

_Missing thing,_

_But they thought that I_

_Was only _

_Interrupting._

She had put her hand on Ron's chest when she mentioned the red doggy. So that meant that the doggy was him. Then the stag must be Harry. But how did he get her back to her rightful head? How did he counteract a curse that he knew nothing about? Neville then spoke in a small voice, "Should we try _finite incantatem? _It might work-" but the rest of his sentence was cut off by Hermione, who had moved closer to Ron.

"_How much and_

_How little has changed_

_Since I met the doggy and the stag _

_On the snake _

_I'd never have guessed _

_How much was at stake_

_At the time._"

Ron cleared his throat and drew his wand. "_Finite incantatem!_" he exclaimed, pointing his wand at Hermione. Absolutely nothing happened to her, though he saw a small jet of light issue from his wand. She continued to talk as she closed all space between them.

"_How much was at stake,_

_I couldn't have known_

_But now I know-_

_We've all grown…_

_What would _

_The red doggy say_

_If he could hear these, _

_My thoughts,_

_Today?_"

So Hermione thought that she was just thinking, not speaking? Was she in a dream-like state right now? Why hadn't the spell worked? He'd never forgive himself if something happened to Hermione, something that couldn't be reversed. He knew, in that terrifying moment, that he was absolutely sure of his feelings for her. He loved her. Now, in this moment, he was absolutely sure of the fact. She was so close… but it would be wrong to kiss her when she was in this state, when she didn't know thoughts from speech… She spoke on, more quietly,

"_I've long been sure _

_Of just one thing: _

_One day I'll wear _

_The red doggy's ring._

_For I've loved _

_The red doggy _

_With all of my heart,_

_From the day we met,_

_From the beginning,_

_The start._"

These were Hermione's thoughts? Or were these just the side effects of whatever Neville had accidentally hit her with? Was he actually the red doggy?But all of these thoughts were flung out of his mind for a moment when Hermione suddenly collapsed against him, her whole body shaking. He caught her and carried her over to the sofa. But when he tried to put her down, she got a death grip on his jumper. Neville then said, "If you want, while you try to keep her calm, I could look through the book she left on the table over there, _Odd Magical Mishaps_, to see if there's anything in there. Why- why don't you just hold her on your lap on the couch? That's probably the only way you'll be able to set her down, judging by the looks of her grip on your jumper." He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm really sorry… I just didn't want to be the bottom of Transfiguration on Monday… since it's Friday, I thought if I got help now, I'd be able to work on it…" Ron's face twisted a bit as well as he thought of their predicament. "Yeah- just look it up. If all else fails, go get Professor McGonagall or Madame Pomfrey. They'll know what to do."

As Neville began to search Hermione's books, Ron settled down on the couch, Hermione on his lap. The moment he placed her on his legs, she loosened her death grip and snuggled up against him. Ron liked the feel of her against him, on his lap, her head burrowed against his neck. She was still shaking. He leaned his head down and murmured into her ear, "I love you, Hermione. I want you to be okay, I want whatever this scary thing is to be over. I don't like the idea that you might be suffering, without me having a way of knowing or doing anything about it. I want you to be alright. And I want you." His voice seemed to have an effect on her; when he finished speaking, she moved her head around and gazed up at him out of her misted eyes. For a moment, they looked clear. It was at that moment that she whispered, "Facts." This was all she could get out before her eyes misted again.

But it had been enough. He knew Hermione well enough to know, by way of that one word, that cold, hard facts were what she needed to get out of this half-dream state. So he began to give her exactly what she needed. "Fact number one: Your full name is Hermione Jean Granger. Fact number two: You are a witch and can do magic. Fact number three: You are brilliant. Fact number four: This is the end of our sixth year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Fact number five: You are seventeen, which means that you are of age, and you can Apparate. Fact number six: You are muggle-born. Fact number seven: You got hit by a haywire spell while you were helping one of our classmates, Neville Longbottom. Fact number eight: He and I are doing everything we can to get you back to normal.

"Fact number nine: When you read, which you do a lot, you will twirl one particular strand of hair around your finger the entire time. You will also go through many expression changes, depending on what you think of what you are reading. Fact number ten: You look unbelievably beautiful when you do that." And he talked on and on and on until almost all the mist had gone from her eyes. He had never realized how much he knew about Hermione, how often he watched her. But now he was thankful for it, because it was the one way for him to help her. And so he talked even more, sharing almost every possible detail about her, her family, himself, his family, their friends, and their lives, up until he said, "Fact number nine hundred fifty-five: I love you, Hermione."

She let out a small gasp as the last of the mist evaporated from her eyes. "Ron?" Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper, yet from the sound of it, Ron knew that Hermione was well and truly back. They locked eyes, and the intensity of the gaze they shared heated up the room a little. For at that moment Neville turned around, saying, "I can't find anything, do you want me to go get Professor Mcgon-" But he cut himself off when he saw that Hermione was back. "Oh. Phew. Sorry about that, Hermione. We all should probably go to bed now. Goodnight." Relieved, tired, and very obviously wanting to leave them alone, Neville all but ran up the staircase to the dormitory. And so Hermione and Ron found themselves quite alone.

"Ron? What exactly happened? I remember you talking to me and holding me, but I don't really know what happened." She was still sitting on his lap, but made no effort to move nor gave any indication of wanting to get off. Ron found this heartening. "Well," he began, "from what I know, Neville had asked you to help him with Transfiguration, his wand went haywire, a spell of some sort hit you, and you went temporarily insane. Neville then rushed up to get me, because apparently you didn't recognize him or anything around you, but kept saying my name. When I came down, you stared about, making knots with the air, acted afraid of Crookshanks, and appeared to have a thin layer of mist over your eyes. Then you recited a weird poem." He recited it back to her, and continued, "Then you suddenly collapsed against me, shaking, with a death grip on my jumper. So I carried you over to the couch and talked to you a little. Your eyes un-misted for a moment and told me, in short form, that if I said a bunch of facts, then you'd be able to come out of the mist state. So I did, and you came back."

He considered for a moment, and then asked, "Do you remember what I told you?" She nodded. Leaning upward, she whispered into his ear, "I love you, too."

They stared at each other for a few moments, blushing, then Ron leaned down and they kissed. It was perfect, better than any of their imaginings. They stayed there as long as they could. When they finally pulled back, Ron was panting like, well, a dog. Hermione, noticing this, grinned before she leaned up to kiss him again. "Red doggy, red doggy, will you be mine?" Ron responded with a soft howl that turned into a moan when their lips met.

*fin*

A/N: Yes, I know this was more likely to take place during 4th year or before for Neville's wand, but the plot line in itself is more likely to take place after that, and hey- that's why this is AU.


End file.
